Harry Potter, the Griffin Ouroboros
by Idovelicus
Summary: Harry believes he's in for a boring Summer before he can start his 4th year at Hogwarts, but he's wrong. This is the summer Harry learns about his family legacy, starting in Berk. And with access to his House's ancestral weapon and the journals of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, who knows what young Harry will do... M for graphic fights and mature themes, no pairings at this time.


Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or the How to Train your Dragon franchise.

Prologue:

-RUN, LILY, RUN! HE'S HERE! TAKE HARRY AND RUN!

Lily Evans Potter didn't wait to be told twice and ran for the stairs as fast as she could. There was no time for meaningless sacrifices for her husband, they'd already agreed on what to do in this situation and their goodbyes had been said.

They knew that Sirius would die before he cracked, but Pettigrew would not. He WOULD crack if he was found. And if there was a mole, as the Marauders and Lily suspected, Voldemort would eventually get to him. And afterwards, he would get to her son.

If anyone could stop or repel Voldemort, it was James. He was one of the greatest duelists in the order, surpassed only by Dumbledore himself. Even if he couldn't stop the monster... he would delay him.

Lily's task was to prepare harry and escape after that, if possible. Both husband and wife knew that the same protections that had kept them safe would be their undoing if their foe managed to get to them despite their precautions. If Voldemort got to them, escape would be nigh impossible.

So Lily was to prepare Harry to make sure that if both his loving parents died, HE would live. And if things worked out for the best and they took the monster down with them, so much the better. Harry would probably get the credit in the midst of the relief of Magical Great-Britain. The entire nation would attempt to keep him safe. He'd be provided for.

Lily entered the room her infant son was sleeping in. All over the floor, there were runes and weird symbols Lily had encountered in the Potter Grimoire that looked almost like they had been made by dragon claws. The walls were painted in runes with potions made of ancient rites. Harry was in the center of a great runic array linked to a smaller rune circle between the baby and the door.

Lily whistled, loudly. Seemingly out of nowhere, a Husky the size of a dire wolf (and probably born with more than a little bit of dire wolf blood) appeared in front of her. Lily, however, knew he had been there for hours, hiding himself in shadows and turning the light away from himself.

'Fenrison', she said in his language,' He's here. Do you know what to do if the worse comes to pass?'

'Yes, Lily. If you survive, report to you... but if you don't and Harry dies, find Remus and tell him everything. Finally, if you pass away along with your husband but your son makes it through, I'll keep watch over him until he's fourteen. I am not to interfere otherwise, unless he is about to die and I can do something about it. But what if he's sent to the Dursleys? I know you don't want him there.'

Lily sighed. That was the only flaw in her plan. 'If that happens, you'll just have to restrain yourself. Whatever bad habits he acquires, whatever weakness or handicap he suffers through, all will be fixed when he turns fourteen. But until, then, you carry information too important to be shared too early. No, you will let Harry do as he must and grow into himself, come rain or shine, until the 31st of July, 1944. Then you will reveal yourself to him and tell him what he must know.'

Grudgingly, the canine said 'Yes, Lily.'

Lily , understanding the huge guardian beast, even as she prepared the last few incantations for the Potter master plan to deal with Voldemort, said 'Nothing stops you from starting to plan how to turn his life around in whatever way he needs from the moment I'm dead, though...' as casually as possible.

Fenrison smiled a wolfish grin at his old friend and ran over to her, licking her face with enthusiasm before she entered the smaller rune circle. He was going to miss her. He'd told James to listen to him and start courting her back in his 3rd year, but he didn't listen to his Familiar until years later.

Not that he had a chance in third year. Too immature, even for Fenrison's standards, let alone Lily's. Still, the canine had known that they would eventually be perfect for each other. Why? Because he felt a Familiar Pull with Lily, and that meant that James and Lily were potential Soul mates. Rare, but powerful stuff. James had been rather childish for his age at thirteen, though, so no cigar.

Fenrison knew that having been a Familiar to both Harry's parents, he would probably become Harry's Familiar... which in turn meant Harry would be devoid of his Familiar until he became fourteen.

Still, he understood the plan and why it had to go without a hitch. He would play his role, as much as he hated what might become the next twelve, going on thirteen years of his life. But he had time, he was young and his kind lived longer than most wizards who died of old age.

"'Still, Dumbledore will probably outlive us all'", he thought with a twinge of dark humor, as he vanished into the shadows. Lily was ready by then, and by the time Voldemort had made his way into the bedroom, arrogance evident in his face as if he had proved himself superior to the Potters in every way he could think of, the now widow had schooled her face into one of fear instead of rage and quenched the nervousness in the pit of her stomach.

Fenrison watched the scene, powerless to stop the mad man... if Voldemort could truly be called a man. As a Twilight Warg, Fenrison could see the Darkness in the monster's soul... or lack thereof. "'Horcruxes? And probably many... Lily will fail, she cannot kill him, not for good... What kind of insane being would split his soul so many times? It goes beyond sacrilege, beyond profanity, beyond deranged and insane... he can't be sane, by now, if he ever was. It's impossible. And Harry will be left to pick up the pieces, to destroy him.'"

The Warg looked at his friend and her son with pity that no one could see. "'I'm so sorry Lily... We failed Harry.'" He watched as Lily died and Voldemort suffered the backlash the ritual delivered upon him after he tried to kill Harry. "'NO! HARRY! How... I can't even begin to... How can I remove a Horcrux from him?!'"

Fenrison howled in pain and anger at the untimely demise and partial failure of his bond mates and the disgrace that had befallen their son. Then he put his paws above his eyes and lied down as he wept.

For twelve years and nine months, Fenrison watched Harry James Hiccup Potter, the canine himself unwatched by anyone, his very existence Obliviated from the minds of everyone who knew of the existence of the Potter Familiar. He shared in his ward's days, wept at his suffering, celebrated his successes and accomplishments, prouder and prouder of the man his old friends' son was fast becoming. And tonight was the night.

Tonight, his ward was fourteen years old, and tonight, Harry James Hiccup Potter would know the truth. All of it. His legacy, his History. His power and responsibilities. He had, despite his circumstances, grown up beautifully. He was truly his parents' son. A hero to the core, whether he wanted or not. It was just who he was, he would never be able to help it. And Fenrison would make sure that Harry came out of his adventures unharmed. It was time that The Potter scion learned of his role in the world.

"'And by the third Hiccup's metal peg leg, tonight is the night.'", he triumphantly thought in front of Number 4, Private Drive, Surrey, Britain. Then he reappeared in his ward's room out of the shadows.

Chapter 1: A reunion long overdue

Harry sat up, feeling some weird sensation in his stomach that he didn't remember having since he'd named Hedwig. Then again, maybe it was the birthday cakes. They were certainly a pleasant variation from the diet that Aunt Petunia had the entire household following (how she had managed to stop spoiling Dudley, Harry was still trying to figure out, but his best guess was that the diet might save his morbidly obese ass, along with the boxing lessons he had recently started), but perhaps he had abused his cake stash on its first night, after all, he had to redevelop his sugar resistance.

Harry had recently decided to take a page from his cousin's book (for perhaps the only time in his life) and start to exercise. He had realized last year that he needed to be able to defend himself, and even if he was hopelessly defenseless without magic, being fit could still go a long way in dueling.

Hedwig herself was gone, probably hunting for the night, which was a good thing- he doubted the Dursleys would help in any way when it came to feeding his "freak of an owl, every bit as trashy and worthless as him". Dudley at least had the good sense to stay away from the nocturnal bird of prey, having been bit with very little affection in worse places than his ear enough times to get that he should stay away.

Petunia didn't even bother herself with thoughts of her existence unless there was a perspective mess, but Vernon... he hated the owl and was very vocal about it, which meant Harry had to control Hedwig or she would have in all likelihood attacked the man already...a good few dozen times.

At least there was one good thing that could be reaped from staying at the Dursleys', and that was that since Harry no longer had to worry about keeping his grades below Dudley's, the Dursleys didn't really care that he was far, far more intelligent than the rest of the household combined.

Which was brilliant, because Harry no longer had to dumb himself down and keep his clever gaze from showing the world just what kind of brain Harry Potter had on his head. Funnily enough, people conveniently forgot that Harry's mother might have passed him her legendary wits along with her trademark green eyes.

No that his father had been dumb. Studious? Not quite, though his grades never went down to Acceptable. But clever? Oh yes. James had been beyond clever. After all, he had managed to create the Marauders' Map, and become an Animagus, when he was fifteen. Not average by any means, even if he hadn't done it alone.

Harry had always been aware that he was superior to most people in some ways. He was more lucid and intelligent. His mind just worked better. And he was able to learn and apply things with truly awesome ease... when he wanted to.

He had learned to disguise his genius quickly, though, since it was the only way to survive in the Dursley household. But he had always gone to great lengths to appear inferior to his relatives, purposefully under developing his body through self starvation and doing as little exercise as possible.

The funny part was that the Dursleys had actually helped him, unwittingly of course. They'd been most helpful in keeping him deceptively weak. Harry himself, however, knew there was more to it than sound strategy. He had often endangered his own life or his friends' for his little secret, and he didn't really know why... Of course much of the pretense he kept up FOR his friends. He knew Ron was not quite the jealous monster type, but he had issues. Then again, considering his overbearing mother, obsessed sister, and top notch brothers, he wasn't surprised.

Ron loved his family- Harry had no doubt of this whatsoever. And he loved harry like a brother- to him, Harry was family. But his family, despite their reputation and poverty, had champions in every area of Hogwarts. That meant Ron would never truly the first truly great Weasley at anything. And he was best friends with HARRY FREAKING POTTER (not that Harry liked to think of it that way at all), who his youngest sister was obsessed with, which probably only made it worse.

Yes, eventually, Ron and Harry would have a falling out, temporary or not. Harry was sure of it. Whether it was permanent would depend on Ron... It was Ron who would have to work out his own issues. Harry couldn't do it for him, and by their own nature, he probably wouldn't even be able to help. Maybe Hermione, depending on the circumstances.

Ah, Hermione... That was the other reason why he kept his brilliance under wraps. Hermione probably had OCD. Not that the wizarding world would know, Harry had arrived at the diagnostic the summer before his second year in the Little Whinging public library. She HAD to be the best. It wasn't even conscious, or a personality defect, though her drive did sometimes reflect rather poorly on her personality. It was a condition, at least according to Harry, but as he had seen improvement, he had decided to keep the charade up for her as well, so that she could improve herself at her own pace.

As he wandered to the window and opened it , letting the night air in and making him wish he was out there flying, feeling his fingertips touch the clouds and watching the moon from above them, he wondered what his parents would think of his pretense. Of his life, really, but it wasn't his less than brilliant performance at school that worried him. He knew he could turn that around at a moment's notice.

But... he never had. There had always been a sort of instinct telling him "Not yet. One day soon, but not yet.". It was why he had let the rat be, even though there was something fishy about it, and why he had always left Hermione to make the important discoveries in her own time.

But... wait. He'd grown accustomed to that instinct. He could feel it every day, always with him.

But now... it was gone. Just.. gone.

"That's what I was feeling just now", Harry realized. and just as he thought this, a huge beast came up behind him.

To his credit, Harry barely reacted. True, he was startled, but he had felt a presence and when he turned around to face the huge Husky, he only reacted to the sight of him by widening his eyes. "'Impressive'", thought the canine.

Harry found the animal truly fascinating, and even beautiful, though he was pretty sure it was a male. It even seemed familiar, though he couldn't quite place him. He was worrying about one thing, though.

-I'm sorry, but are you going to cause a commotion of some sort? It's just that you see, it's happened before and it would be bloody swell if I could avoid a repeat of that situation.

The beats laughed. there was no other word for it. It was similar to Sirius' laugh, as it also had a sort of barking quality to it, but still, an all too human laugh. Not quite normal in a huge Husky.

Harry took all of three seconds to come to the conclusion that it was the wrong thing to fixate on as "not quite normal" in the entire situation. "A huge Husky comes in my room out of the blue and I fixate on the fact that it can laugh in a remarkably human fashion? Come on, brain, you're better than that, as much as you're used to not showing it."

Suddenly, the beast stared at him with a pained expression and whined. 'You really don't remember me, do you, Prongslet?'

Harry stared at him for a few seconds before realizing he'd actually understood the bloody animal, and that it... no, HE had called him what only a Marauder would know to call him.

-What am I now, a bloody barkingtongue?!

The Husky laughed again. He really sounded a lot like Sirius when he did that. Which kind of made sense, since he'd have to know Sirius to know the name Prongslet. Maybe Sirius had sent him? No, that didn't feel quite right...

-'Actually, we prefer Tungumál, but barkingtongue does have a ring to it...'

Great, now he had a sarcastic giant Husky mocking him in his room at the Dursleys'. Great. Just another night for Harry James I-can't -get-a-freaking -break Potter, really. No more than business as usual, if he was being honest with himself.

-So I'm speaking Tungumál?

-'No, you're speaking English. Really, do you hear yourself barking?'

-No, I don't.

-'Good, because you're not, if you were hearing yourself barking, we might have had to go to St. Mungo's to treat your surge of greater than normal insanity. I'm speaking Tungumál, you're just understanding me.'

-Great. Next you'll be telling me I can talk to dolphins...

-'Wait, you didn't know you could talk to dolphins?'

Harry looked at the canine, horrified beyond belief, until the animal's confused face fell apart and he fell to the side, laughing like a mad... well, dog, Harry supposed. He realized he'd been duped.

-'You should... you should have seen your face! You were so horrified you looked like you'd been told you had to marry Draco Malfoy! Bloody priceless!'

-Oh, go to hell, you worthless canine... You're exactly like Sirius, you know that?

The "worthless canine" snickered.

-'Who do you think he was aiming for when he chose his Animagus form?'

Harry looked at the beast, completely baffled. He'd known Sirius... in HOGWARTS. Like, during the years his dad, Sirius and Pettigrew spent becoming Animagus. harry didn't want to believe his ears. Could this be a source of first-hand information on what his parents had actually been like? Sirius and Remus hadn't been around long enough for him to really ask them anything, at least since he'd discovered his teacher's friendship with his father.

-Did you... did you know my parents?

The Husky approached him and touched a scar across his chin he'd had for as long as he could remember with his nose (which was about as high as Harry's eyes, really. The Husky really was huge, and Harry was fourteen and small for his age) as gently as if he was caressing it, which Harry realized he might. After all, he had paws, not hands.

-'I gave you that scar precisely twelve years and nine months ago, when I dragged you and your mother's body to your bedroom. I was your parents' Familiar. And now I'm yours.'

Tried to make sense of what he was hearing. He knew what a Familiar was, and he knew that for some reason, Hedwig had never been his.

A Familiar was a non-human being that was bonded to the wizard through the very souls of bond-mates, and shared his traits, powers and life with his bond-mate. The bond went two ways, too; the Familiar would also receive certain powers and traits from the wizard. It was an incredibly profound bond that would usually last as long as the shortest-lived bond-mate's life. Unless that one had children. in which case the Familiar might pass to his mate's heir, or the wizard might take his mate's young as a new Familiar. Other than that particular situation, both wizards and Familiars tended to never repeat the bond.

Harry's parents had had a Familiar. And now their Familiar was his. That made sense, after a fashion. What didn't make sense was that he had been theirs, and not his or hers.

-Wait, you were a Familiar to BOTH my parents? How?

-'They were soul mates, it was like I was linked to only one soul.'

Harry nodded. That did make sense.

But then he thought of something else. Something very strange about the entire situation.

-Why now? If you were to be my Familiar, why are you only turning up now? I mean, I'd get it if you had had to wait until I knew I was a wizard, but I've been attending Hogwarts for three years, now. I almost died so many times I lost count already, and I'm fourteen, for crying out loud! What the hell?

His Familiar looked him in the eye and said:

-'I'm sorry, Harry, I really am, It was incredibly hard for me too. But I did it on Lily's orders. And I trust your mother, she always knew what she was doing. And it was kind of her dying wish, so I really didn't have much of a choice.'

Harry was trying to process how much his entire life had changed in the course of fifteen minutes, and failing miserably. It was too much in too little time. Noticing, the Familiar told him:

-'Harry, this is too much for one night. Go to bed, tomorrow we will discuss why I took so long and I'll tell you everything you can learn right now.'

Harry went to bed, but realized something.

-I still don't know your name...

-'It's Fenrison, Harry.'

-Thank you, Fenrison. Good night.

-'I'll always be here, Harry. Good night.'- he said, before he lied down over Harry's feet.

That was the last thing Harry heard during his fourteenth birthday.


End file.
